


Circumstantial Blessings

by Terminallydepraved



Series: Works for Others [23]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Comfort, Daddy Kink, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 22:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: Fending for himself wasn't anything out of the norm for Desmond. It's what fate decides to send him in response to it that pushes him out of his comfort zone.





	Circumstantial Blessings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuperSaiyanHollow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperSaiyanHollow/gifts).



> this is a bit outside my usual fare, but i enjoyed the journey. this fic is brought to you by yaoiobsessedwrites on tumblr! thank you for your support!

Desmond was fairly certain he was going insane. It had been a long time coming, really, given the way his life had gone. The Animus, Pieces of Eden, the whirlwind of memories not his swimming through his head at any given moment: Desmond had never given much thought towards how he would realize things had finally come to a head, but he would be the first to admit that he had never expect insanity to take root in the form of his ancestors looming over him upon waking. Usually the dreams ended once he opened his eyes. But, upon blinking several times, upon rubbing his eyes frantically in hopes of scrubbing away the sight and failing, he came to the forgone conclusion that every ounce of craziness in his life had finally taken effect. 

“Who is he? You ask that but still feel the need to slaughter him?” Ezio argued, gesturing with his hands at Altair, and then back at Desmond in his bed. “What sense is there in that? You think it best to just fumble around without information?”

“I think it best to end a threat before it can become a greater one!” Altair snarled, his blade already drawn. “I think it best to take the initiative in a battle and not grant mercy to enemies who we have no guarantee would do the same for us!”

If Altair brandished his blade any angrier, he might just lose an eye. Desmond gaped, fairly certain they didn’t know him awake. Though, given their yelling, it was hard to imagine they expected him to stay asleep. Why was Desmond even thinking about that, anyway? None of this was real, right? What the hell was he doing laying here and watching his hallucinations bicker like angry school children? It had to be a dream. There was no way this wasn’t a dream. 

But then Altair kicked at the ground and Desmond saw a discarded shirt go flying off into the corner of the room. Could hallucinations do that? “I’m fucking insane,” he whispered into his hands, only just realizing he understood perfectly the words being shouted over his head by Ezio and Altair. “I’m actually fucking crazy. Oh my God.” 

Speaking had been a mistake. It had been a monumental mistake, and Desmond was suddenly hit with the realization that they had no clue who he was and had just been arguing over killing him. Altair and Ezio paused in their argument to look at him, their blades drawn and hackles raised. Desmond fumbled quickly for his own blade lost somewhere in the sheets. How bad would it be to be killed by his own ancestors in his bed? God, was he even wearing boxers? Altair and Ezio were at least wearing the colors and garb of the Assassins, and that seemed to be enough to keep them from fighting each other anymore than they were already doing. If there was an enemy in the room, it definitely would be Desmond. 

They didn’t waste time in staring him down. Desmond had just enough time to scramble for his blade before Ezio reached the bed and tackled him back down. Desmond let out a muted grunt and Ezio ripped the blade from his hand, turning it back on him in half a second. Everything froze for a moment, and Desmond counted himself lucky that Ezio was hesitating instead of killing him outright. 

“You,” Ezio called out, addressing Altair who was pacing like a tiger behind him. “Find some ropes for our friend.”

“My name is Altair Ibn la Ahad, and I will not take orders from you,” Altair hissed. From the bitterness in his voice, Ezio had been trying for a while to get Altair to kowtow to him. “Just kill him and be done with it.”

Desmond paled. If they wanted to kill him, he was probably as good as dead already. He just had no idea what would become of them. He was marginally sure they were just hallucinations, but the weight of Ezio against his mattress felt awfully real. Would they disappear if he died? Would they just remain here, trapped in another time? He opened his mouth to protest, but it seemed he was being ignored as the two bickered some more. 

“And kill the only one who might answer our questions?” Ezio scoffed. “Fetch the rope or don’t. I can hold him down myself.”

For some reason, the way he said that didn’t inspire confidence. Desmond kept still and wilted when Altair glared at him. He knew the anger was more directed at the situation than at himself, but still. Altair was one hell of an intimidating guy. 

“Now then. Who are you?” Ezio asked, dragging Desmond’s attention back to him and him alone. Altair may be intimidating, but Ezio was just plain unpredictable. He held the stolen blade to Desmond’s throat with a smirk upon his handsome face. “This knife is too dangerous for a pretty thing like you, no? Where did you get it? Are you a member of our Order too?”

A heated blush rose on Desmond’s cheeks, embarrassment adding itself to the myriad of emotions already plaguing Desmond. He sputtered and averted his eyes, realizing he was in bed still. What a fucking joke this was. “I’m…” And what was he supposed to say? That he was their descendent? That they were hundreds of years in the future and long dead? That they were just the product of Desmond’s fried brain and that sorry, they weren’t real? The blade pressed closer to his throat though Ezio still seemed jovial, his blade almost as intent as he roving eyes. 

“Yes?” the man prompted, tugging down the sheets to bare Desmond’s chest. “You are…?”

He was going to be a mortified corpse if Ezio kept this up. Desmond bit his lip and then quickly released it when Ezio leaned closer. “I’m your descendent!” he shouted, or perhaps squeaked would be a better word. “My name is Desmond and you’re Ezio and he is Altair and somehow I can understand you and you’re in my room and  _ you need to get off of me right now!” _

If Ezio had been expecting another answer, it certainly hadn’t been that. He gaped and blinked, and then he leaned closer as if to examine Desmond’s face. “Huh,” the man muttered, dropping his blade to take Desmond by the chin, turning him this way and that. “I suppose I can see myself in you somewhat. Or, in the way you described. I had already been imagining it before that in a slightly different way.”

Before Desmond could sputter, Ezio bucked forward, a wince on his face. He whipped around and glared at Altair who still has his hand up from the smack. “Stop it,” he ordered before turning his eagle-eyed gaze to Desmond. “If what you say is true, then how are we here. How is this possible.”

It was possible because nothing at all in Desmond’s life made sense anymore. He shifted and tried to meet Altair’s eyes. “The pieces of Eden?” he offered up with a shrug. It was too much effort to explain the Bleeding Effect to them. “I don’t know. You’re here now, so I don’t think the how matters much.”

“And where exactly is here?” Altair asked. It was so strange hearing him speak. Hearing either of them speak. Desmond could tell that they were speaking their mother tongues, but everything was easily understood. “If you are our descendent, then you must be an assassin too. Why are you so weak?”

Desmond balked at that. He wasn’t that bad, was he? “You’re in a hideout,” he said ruefully, crossing his arms. “I have a lot of… enemies after me. I’m still training and it’s not safe for me to be out in the open yet.” God, this was such a barebones explanation. 

Altair grimaced and sheathed his blade. “A novice, then,” he murmured, looking at the wall. “That explains much.”

“Who are your enemies?” Ezio asked next, reminding Desmond that the man was still far too close to him. He let out a bit of a laugh as Desmond pushed at his shoulders, moving him back onto the floor. “You are our heir, are you not? Perhaps it is divine fortune that brought us to you.”

“Well, um, my enemies are…” What were they? Templars? Traitors? Pretty much everyone was out for him. Probably should stick to the ones they would recognize. “They’re Templars.”

Shadows passed over the faces of both men, and they shared a look with one another. “Even now,” Ezio murmured, shaking his head. “Has the world truly remained unchanged?”

“It is the nature of man to do harm to others,” Altair sighed. He looked back at Desmond, something a little softer in his eyes. “And you are what they seek to harm?”

Desmond nodded, clenching his hands in the sheets. “Me and a lot of other innocent people.”

There was a moment of silence as they mulled it over. Desmond wished they could mull faster. He really wanted to put some pants on. A few minutes passed by like that before Ezio broke the quiet with a decisive clap. Altair looked at him and Desmond tried not to fidget as Ezio put all of his attention on him. 

“I suppose then there is no other option than to help you,” Ezio declared, looking far too excited after all he had just been told. 

“Help me? Help me with what?” Desmond asked, barely catching the hidden blade as it was tossed back to him. 

“A novice cannot advance without a teacher, no?” Ezio looked at Altair with a winsome smile. “And it would appear that divine fortune has gifted you two such teachers. It would not be good to try and defy fortune, would it?”

Altair grunted, which made Desmond sputter. Him too? “Your enemies won’t wait for you to improve. Get up. We start now.” He moved towards the door as if he knew where he was going when he patently didn’t. “Come, Ezio. Let the boy dress.”

Ezio gave Desmond one last lingering look before laughing and waving himself out, following Altair like a shadow. Desmond frowned and averted his eyes, staring down at the blade in his hands. What on earth could they be planning to do with him? And more importantly, what did they think they were doing wandering around on their own? 

Like clockwork, Desmond heard an enormous crash sound somewhere down the hall. He groaned into his hands and shoved the sheets away. What had that been? It sounded expensive, and if he listened closely, he could just hear Ezio swearing violently in Italian. Desmond shoved his head through his shirt and tugged on his pants as he jogged to the door, hidden blade strapped haphazardly to his forearm. 

This was going to be what drove Desmond over the edge. He could already tell.

\---

Training began as soon as Desmond was dressed, and continued until long after. It was no surprise really, that the two of them would seek to start as soon as possible. The Templars were a very real threat then, and to hear it still existed now would incite anyone, really. Desmond did his best to work with their pace, even when it meant training from daybreak to dusk. It was important he learn how to defend himself, and even more important to learn how to defend others.

It was just a shame that there existed such a difference between their skill levels. It was an even bigger one when Desmond realized that Altair wasn’t in the habit of taking it easy on novices. 

“Faster,” Altair called out, striking at Desmond with his wrapped blade like the vision of death he really was, really had been. Desmond narrowly dodged, nearly tripping in his haste to leap back. “Too slow, too sloppy, how will you survive if you don’t move faster?”

Desmond threw himself out of the way before Altair could cleave him in half. “I was- I was doing just fine before you came here, you know!” he grunted, wasting his breath on speaking instead of running. God, but Altair was a beast. If Desmond had thought he was skilled before, seeing it directed at himself was another thing entirely. No wonder Altair had climbed the ranks so fast. Even before his fall he had been deadly, but like this, he was absolutely terrifying

“I would not say that,” Ezio laughed, watching from against the wall with an entertained grin on his face. “Sleeping so deeply in a room without a lock. How could you defend yourself if attacked? You sleep with your blade but fumble for it in the dark. You need us, Desmond. Perhaps appreciate more what it is we are doing for you.”

Appreciate what they were doing? “How am I supposed to appreciate you both beating me into a pulp?!” he snarled, lunging forward in a vain attempt to land any sort of blow on Altair. At this point, Desmond would be ecstatic just to cut the man’s clothing, let alone his skin. He extended his blade and spun, only to feel an iron-like hand grip his forearm. Desmond had all of a second to process the world turning as Altair used his momentum against him, throwing him against the wall where he promptly slumped onto the floor. Shit. If they were figments of his over-worked imagination, then they hit harder than he thought.

Desmond closed his eyes and panted, his side aching dully. “Perhaps you shouldn’t make it so easy then,” Ezio chuckled. His voice was closer now, and Desmond opened his eyes to the sight of the man’s face looming over him. Ezio leaned over him and held out a hand, out of breath from laughing no doubt but wearing the look well. “You look good on your back,” the man teased, his grin rakish and his grip strong when Desmond took his hand. With one pull he had Desmond back on his feet. “Don’t show your enemies the sight. They might just fall for you. Or was that your plan by sleeping in that bed of yours? If it was, perhaps you are not as much of a fool as I first thought.”

Desmond yanked his hand back the moment he could and flushed messily, glaring off at the wall. “Don’t make fun of me,” he said, lifting his blade again, ready for the next bout. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, mi caro,” Ezio laughed, spinning his own blade lazily. He looked past Desmond at Altair, grinning widely. “Don’t you agree, Altair? Isn’t it a good sight, our heir laid out flat, defeated but for his pride? Reminds me of me as a boy.”

“I doubt you were ever so noble,” the other said, stalking forwards as if to attack from behind. 

Noble? Desmond flushed an angry red and turned away. He was growing accustomed to Ezio’s lines, but hearing Altair play along too was a bit more than he could handle right now. “I thought I said not to make fun of me,” he muttered, going for his water bottle as an excuse to get away. He froze mid-step when a cold blade touched his throat. Seriously? 

“We aren’t done yet,” Altair said, his voice low. His arm was wrapped around Desmond’s shoulder, his blade flat against his neck as a warning. “Never turn your back to an enemy. Never turn your back to me unless you would enjoy me cutting you down.”

“I’m just getting some water,” Desmond snarled, grabbing Altair’s wrist and shoving at it. It was pointless, since Altair refused to budge. “I can trust you, can’t I? Why wouldn’t I feel comfortable showing you my back?”

“Betrayal can come at you swifter than any arrow,” the man hissed right back, the edge of his blade just barely cutting into Desmond’s skin. “It can cut you down more mercilessly than any enemy before you.”

Oh. This again. Desmond sighed and went limp, leaning heavily against Altair’s chest to make him carry his weight. It was really the only thing to do when he got like this, since Ezio rarely seemed to feel like intervening. “Fine, sorry,” he muttered, turning to meet Altair’s eyes. “Can I have some water now, or do you feel like teaching me another lesson first?”

“I would rather you take this seriously,” Altair said with narrowed eyes. 

And Desmond would rather go nurse his wounds in the privacy of his room, but sometimes things don’t work out that way. He was about to say as much, but Ezio finally waltzed up to do something besides laugh and tease. Desmond’s hero, truly. 

“I think that’s enough sparring for the time being,” he said, taking Altair by the wrist and jerking him away from Desmond with a roll of his eyes. “Get your drink, Desmond, and then we will have you practice your forms again with the practice dummy.”

“You are coddling him!” Altair hissed, rounding on Ezio and ripping his arm free from his grasp. 

“And you need to cool your head,” Ezio returned, gesturing for Desmond to go and do as he had been told. “Making him paranoid will serve no purpose.”

Desmond backed away and made his escape while they argued, reaching the bench where his water bottle was sitting. He fell down onto the seat and let out a weak grunt, his muscles sore and his skin hot. The water was wonderful, but his bed would be better. Or, a needy voice whispered in his mind, a shower. God, what he wouldn’t give for a slow, hot shower free of his ghosts. Maybe they would deign to let him have one once things were all said and done here, but Desmond had to wonder if he would be able to even stand on his own by the time that came to be. 

If he were quick, and if he had the balls to do it, he could just run off while they argued. Desmond took another drink and watched the two men go at it on the far side of the makeshift training room. Ezio was keeping a cooler head than Altair, but the longer things went on, the less likely that was to remain. What was Altair’s deal anyway? Sure, there were practical reasons for his paranoia, but when it really came down to it, Desmond’s life was Desmond’s life. If he chose to be stupid about it, that was his business. It wasn’t as if they really knew each other. Not like real family or anything. And it certainly wasn’t as if they were guaranteed to remain with Desmond for any length of time. This fever dream had to end at some point, so really, why was Altair trying so hard?

And on that note, why did Ezio? Desmond took another rueful drink and swirled the water in his mouth before swallowing. He wasn’t as spartan as Altair, or as brutal in his training regimen, but he was behaving far more patiently than Desmond would have expected. Not to mention his lines. So many lines. Desmond’s face felt warm and he didn’t have the excuse of the training to fall back on. He had seen how Ezio operated first hand. He had seen him woe women with just a look, and he knew well enough what Ezio looked like when he was interested. It had to be a mistake, right?

Or maybe, Desmond thought, just maybe, he was projecting again. 

With an angry sigh, he upended the rest of the water over his head. It didn’t get rid of the thoughts like he wanted, but it succeeded in cooling them for the moment.  Ruminating on things like that wouldn’t help spare him bruises, and it certainly wouldn’t help him stay alive longer. Training would. As painful as it was, Desmond knew he needed to keep at it and take every beating as the learning opportunity it was. 

He stood up and headed towards the two assassins, and once they noticed his approach, they quickly shut up. “Get caught in the rain?” Ezio asked, brow raised as he took in Desmond’s soaked form. The thin shirt was sticking to him now, but his hair was probably the worse victim. 

“Just cooled off, is all. Just the usual forms, right?” he asked, nodding towards the dummies off to the side. 

Ezio blinked before snapping out of whatever reverie he was in. Altair, Desmond noticed, had turned to face the wall, his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed. “Yes, just the… just the normal forms.” His voice sounded strained. Probably from all the shouting. 

“Okay,” he murmured, looking at Altair’s stiff back. Should he apologize? Altair looked like he wanted nothing to do with anyone for the foreseeable future, so maybe later would be best. Desmond sighed to himself and turned away, letting his hidden blade extend. They could talk about it later if it was still an issue. The two were watching him now with looks that Desmond couldn’t quite name. He swallowed and put it from his mind, devoting himself to the practice dummy. They had good intentions. He would just have to trust them to keep them that way.

\---

“He’s getting better,” a voice murmured, taking Altair by surprise. It wasn’t an easy thing to accomplish but if anyone were to boast of being able to, it would probably be Ezio. Aggravating and pompous as he was, Altair had to admit that Ezio’s skills were at a level comparable to his own. 

Altair looked over his shoulder to meet eyes with his… His what? His descendent? His heir? His fellow teacher in the daunting task of training Desmond for the battles ahead. “He is,” he returned, looking back down at the training floor where Desmond was busy hacking away at a training dummy. “He still has much to learn.” Things were complicated in every sense now, in this new, strange world. Complicated, but bearable given the company. 

“Not as free with the praise as I am, are you?” Ezio murmured, settling in beside him in a lazy sprawl. “You should reconsider that. The boy is capable. He is very adept.”

“Praise breeds arrogance,” Altair said, his eyes locked on Desmond. “Arrogance breeds complacency. Laziness. It will kill him faster to be kind to him now. He cannot afford to make any mistakes.” Not like Altair had. If he could spare Desmond the horror of that, the mortification and guilt, then he would. Altair would take any steps in his power to do so, no matter how cruel it made him seem. 

Ezio just rolled his eyes. “I’m of a like mind, but I do think that he might take it personally. We’re all he has left, and who knows how long we will last?” There was a clatter below as Desmond succeeded in knocking down the training dummy. He wiped the sweat from his brow and panted, staring at the fallen foe for a moment before moving to pick it back up. It had been days since their little argument. It was hard to tell if Desmond still held a grudge. “You know well enough that an assassin needs more than just his blades and his skill to carry on. He needs hope. A cause.”

“What are you saying?” Altair asked, taking in the man at his side. 

“I’m saying that feelings won’t harm you. They won’t dull your blade or weaken your arm.” Ezio reached out his hand and settled it on Altair’s thigh. “Do you feel as I do for him? Do you feel the need to treat him as I do?”

Altair froze and narrowed his eyes. He attempted to move his thigh, but Ezio’s grip was firm. “I don’t feel the need to coddle him, no,” he hissed, glancing back down to make sure that Desmond hadn’t heard any of the nonsense currently taking place above his head. “And you shouldn’t either.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Ezio had the audacity to smile as if he knew something Altair didn’t. “I’ve seen how you are with him. How you train him until he collapses to make sure he knows all he can know. How you sit up here for hours after to make sure that he is safe. There is no harm in admitting it, Altair. I feel the same towards him.”

Something like heat began to burn along Altair’s cheeks. He forced himself to keep meeting Ezio’s eye despite the need to look away. On some level it was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one experiencing these thoughts, these feelings. On other levels, Altair knew that while he himself would never act upon them, Ezio was most likely to do just that. And, from the looks of things, he was determined to do so with Altair right there by his side. 

“What are you intending to do?” he heard himself ask. How could a part of him be considering this? Feelings and thoughts swam inside his head, filling his chest to the brim. He wanted it, of that there was no denying, but the realistic part of him was screaming that it was a bad idea. That Desmond would never reciprocate. They were his teachers, his mentors. There was no time or space for them to be anything more. Not in times such as these. 

But Ezio didn’t care. He just smiled and shifted closer to Altair, his lips brushing his in a chaste kiss. “I intend to tell him how I feel,” the man crooned, cupping Altair’s face in his hand so he couldn’t shift away. “I intend to kiss him like this and see what it gets me. Will you help? Will you help me show him how much we care?”

It felt warm suddenly, as if a fire had been lit inside his chest. Altair exhaled and leaned into Ezio’s touch. The order was a brotherhood, the voice inside Altair’s head whispered conspiratorially. Love had its place on the battlefield, didn’t it? It was hard to think otherwise while Ezio kissed him, and Altair could admit to being weak on occasion. Desmond needed them, of that there was no doubt. If they could show him how much they in turn needed him, it could only make the young assassin stronger. 

There came another clatter, the practice dummy flying across the room to land messily somewhere beneath them. Desmond let out a victorious shout, and then a laugh that Altair felt somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Desmond was strong. He was competent. All he lacked was a cause. All he lacked was something to protect. Something like love. 

“Very well,” he said once Ezio broke the kiss, looking up into eyes that so matched his own. “Let’s show him how much we care.”

\---

Desmond sensed the change in the atmosphere the moment he walked into the training room. Something had changed and he wasn’t sure what, but if they had taught him anything in the scope of their training, it was to read a mood and behave accordingly. There was no sight of Ezio or Altair, but Desmond had no illusions that they weren’t there. They were, and they were hiding. For what reason, Desmond was sure he was about to find out. 

“What’s going on?” he called out, drawing his blade in case they were planning on ambushing him. “Are you hiding from me now?” Goading them might not be the best idea, but he knew how cocky they could be. It would draw out one of them hopefully, if not both. 

He didn’t have to wait long. There was a flutter of cloth behind him, loud enough and close enough that Desmond whipped around with his blade up, slashing at the empty air. His heart was beating harder now, his adrenaline beginning to cloud his judgement. Where were they? They had to be playing with him, but why? What sort of test could this be now?

A laugh sounded somewhere, seeming to come from on high. Desmond carefully looked up, seeing nothing but darkness in the rafters above. “I think we’re scaring him,” Ezio’s voice carried, the directions indistinguishable. 

“It was your idea to do this,” Altair muttered, and Desmond whirled around again, swearing the sound was right behind him. There was nothing there though, nothing but empty air and the ghost of a laugh. 

“Just come out!” he shouted, losing his patience. 

“What do you say, Altair? Should we end the game?”

Altair sighed. “Just do it if you’re going to do it,” he said, another whisper of fabric sounding behind Desmond. “Don’t torture the poor boy.”

“Do what?” Desmond began to ask, but he jumped and nearly swallowed his tongue a moment later when he felt the unmistakable sensation of another body right behind his own. He lifted his blade but a hand snatched him by the wrist, unlatching the clasp to let his blade fall to the ground in a clutter. 

“It’s just us, isn’t it?” Ezio whispered, wrapping his strong arms around Desmond’s waist. He hooked his chin on Desmond’s shoulder to speak his words against his ear. “Nothing to fear. No need to be nervous. You trust us, no?”

Desmond’s breath hitched in his chest as Ezio’s hands moved lower, fondling his thighs. “What are you… What do you think you’re doing?” he laughed, his nervous energy tinging the sound easily. 

“Seducing you, I thought,” Ezio murmured, pressing a kiss to Desmond’s lax mouth. “Is it working? I know this is sudden, but it usually works better that way sometimes, so long as you trust us.”

Seducing… him? The words rolled around in his head for a minute before they gained traction enough to stick. Thoughts and memories rushed through his head unbidden, sights and sounds and the scent of sex overtaking the moment in a brilliant flash. Ezio knew what he was doing. He breathed sensuality like the air Desmond couldn’t seem to find. With a man like him, Desmond was woefully out of his element. 

“I… I trust you,” Desmond said, turning in Ezio’s arms to face the man holding him. “But Ezio… This isn’t training.”

“Oh, I know, mi caro,” Ezio laughed, his voice rich and deep and rolling down Desmond’s spine like honey. His rough, calloused hand cupped Desmond’s cheek as tenderly as if he were holding glass, his thumb stroking a burning line along Desmond’s cheekbone. His grin was intensely playful and just a little bit hungry. “This isn’t training. This is sex.”

There was no way to hide his embarrassment, not when Ezio could feel Desmond’s blush burning his face red. Desmond took a stumbling step back, to run from the intent he could see in Ezio’s eyes or from his own mortification. He barely backed up a foot before another hard body stopped him, the familiar arms of Altair wrapping around him from behind.

“You too?” Desmond squeaked, his voice breaking halfway through. 

Altair brought his lips to Desmond’s ear, his smile warm against his skin. “I told him not to tease you like that,” he chuckled, holding Desmond in place as Ezio closed the distance between them. “Be nice to the boy. He’s obviously never done this before.”

Desmond held back his mortified yelp. Ezio pulled back though, meeting Desmond’s avoidant eye steadily. “Is that true?” he asked with a soft voice, cradling Desmond’s face in his hands. “But how? You are so handsome. Did you learn nothing from your time with me?”

Oh, god. How could this get any worse? Desmond closed his eyes when he failed to tug his face away. It was a poor attempt at hiding, but it was all he had when sandwiched between both men. “What do you want me to say?” he began, finding it hard to concentrate let alone speak while Altair trailed his lips against his ear. “I was busy with life and work and then this… this animus situation. C-can you stop that?” he asked, taking in a ragged breath. Altair’s golden eyes were so sharp when they met his, his smile somehow sharper. “I can’t… I can’t think when you do that.”

“And you told me to be nice to him,” Ezio chided, tugging Desmond against his chest and away from Altair. “Oh, just look at you. So beautiful, aren’t you? You know we mean you no harm.”

“I know,” Desmond breathed, “but I don’t understand why you want me. Why you both do. I’ve done… nothing. I’m nothing and you are just… fragments… inside my head.” It made no sense. None at all. There were a thousand other things they should be worried about in regards to Desmond. None of those should be this. 

Ezio looked over his shoulder and Desmond realized he and Altair were sharing a look. Whatever connection they had to one another, it allowed them to share their thoughts without a word. Desmond fidgeted and tried to tug himself from their embrace, but it was to no avail. They held him as firmly as statues made of iron. 

“Do we feel real to you, Desmond?” Altair asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had formed. His lips were back against his skin, but this time they trailed along Desmond’s cheek, Ezio’s coming closer to mirror him on the other side. 

“Do you feel that we are real?” Ezio asked, resting his hands gently on Desmond’s hips. “Answer us, dear one.”

Desmond shook, his face flushed, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. There was no denying the weight he felt on his hips, on the warmth he felt embracing him. Every breath Altair breathed against his cheek teased his hair and skin as much as any living persons would. His mind told him it wasn’t real, but his body disagreed. Desmond carefully settled his own hands on Ezio’s firm chest, bringing his chin up to meet the man’s eyes. 

“I want to think you are,” Desmond murmured, closing his hands into fists. “I don’t have much else besides the two of you. You’re the only ones I can really trust.” He had never before been the type to welcome a life over the truth, but when his life was as tumultuous as it was, he figured he should take any measure of comfort he could get. 

“Then trust us in this,” Ezio said gently, leaning in to brush his lips against Desmond’s in a tender, chaste kiss. 

“Can you do that?” Altair asked, threading his fingers through Desmond’s hair to turn him so he could do the same. “You are all we can trust, too.” God, but their lips were so warm. How were they so warm? Desmond closed his eyes and let them hold him, losing himself in the gentle touch. 

He felt rather than heard Ezio’s laugh. It was deep, deep enough to rumble in his chest. “We do need to hear you say it, dear one,” Ezio teased, stroking his knuckles along Desmond’s cheek. “What do you say? Do you want us? Will you trust us? We will not hurt you, so please. Let us have this moment with you.” He met eyes with Altair like a dare. “I know I for one will not disappoint you.”

Altair tore his mouth from Desmond with a snarl. “You speak too big, brat,” he growled, holding Desmond to his chest like a claim. His hands were already moving, teasing the hem of Desmond’s shirt as if they longed to slip beneath. “Do not listen to him. I will show you things of which you have scarcely dreamed.” 

“Oh my god.” Desmond felt himself shiver, his breath coming quick as they both closed in on him. Their lips burned against his throat, Ezio’s hands squeezing his hips teasingly. Something like want was filling him, pouring down his spine like warm water. “I… God, yes. I want it. I trust you. Please.”

“You heard him,” Ezio laughed, meeting eyes with Altair over Desmond’s shoulder. “Let’s take him to bed and show him a good time.”

“Come,” Altair crooned, his voice so low against Desmond’s ear. “Let us show you our devotion.”

A part of Desmond wondered if this could really be happening, but the rest of him, the parts of him hanging onto every word, every pleasurable touch, was all too eager to obey. He moved with them as they tugged him to his meager room, their hands rough but their touch gentle. Ezio led the way and Altair kicked shut the door behind them the moment they crossed the threshold, shucking his hooded robes as Ezio pulled Desmond onto the bed. 

“We should take it slow, no?” Ezio murmured, leaning down to smile against Desmond’s lips. He pressed them together in a gentle kiss, running his fingers through Desmond’s hair. His touch was gentle, unrushed, and Desmond found himself moaning softly within a minute or so. Warm lips, a teasing nip soothed by a quick flick of his tongue— Ezio knew how to kiss, that was for sure, and Desmond was weak. Painfully weak to it and everything else happening right now. 

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Altair cut in, the mattress dipping behind Desmond as the man crawled up to join him. Desmond opened his eyes and took in a quick breath, pulling away from Ezio before he lost what little sense he had left. Altair had spent his time well while they were engaged. He was bare from the waist up, his billowy pants the only thing covering him from their sight. Altair grinned at him, catching Desmond staring. “You like what you see?” he asked cockily, leaning in to steal his lips in a kiss of his own. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“I forgot how arrogant you are,” Desmond gasped, Altair kissing far more aggressively than Ezio, but that really came as no surprise. Altair was always more aggressive with him. He felt himself tip backwards and fall down against the thin mattress, Altair tumbling down after him. His face was held in strong, scarred hands, held in place for Altair to kiss him as he wished. Desmond parted his lips to moan and felt a clever tongue press inside, exploring his mouth with a skill that stole his breath from his lungs in one fell swoop. 

“He looks rather good like this,” Ezio observed, stripping his own shirt off to toss it to the floor somewhere behind him. “Just as I told you before. Being on your back suits you.” His laugh was rich and warm, his body even warmer as he crawled up onto the bed to lay against Desmond’s side, kissing the corner of his mouth just as Altair moved his attention to his throat. “Do you feel good, mi caro? Do you want more?”

It was so hard to form words with Altair’s hand traveling down his chest to squeeze his thigh like a tease. Desmond closed his eyes and nodded, fisting the sheets at his side. “Please,” he begged, spreading his legs a little wider with a blush that burned. God, he sounded so needy. There was no helping it though. Not really. Not when he had the both of them like this, their hands worshipping every inch of his body. 

“You heard him,” Altair murmured, setting himself to unbuttoning Desmond’s shirt. “Go get the oil.”

“Why don’t you get it?” Ezio sniped back, his hand falling to Desmond’s belt to tug the leather free from its loops. “Why should I have to stop touching him so you can have him all to yourself?”

Altair grunted, lifting his head to glare at Ezio. “Because I said so,” he said, moving an arm to straddle Desmond. “He likes me best, anyway.”

Ezio let out a bark of laughter. “In what world do you live? I should very much like to see this fantasy realm of yours!”

“You two are as bad as children,” Desmond cut in before Ezio could muster up a rebuttal. He dropped his head onto the pillow and laughed breathlessly, barely able to believe that any of this was happening. His chest was bare now, Altair tugging his shirt off his shoulders with an insistence that was hard to refuse. 

Ezio pouted like the adult he clearly wasn’t. “Don’t say that,” he pleaded, ruefully extracting himself from the tangle of limbs to go towards Desmond’s bedside drawer. “It’s not fair if he gets to monopolize you.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty of me to go around—!” Desmond nearly yelped, a warm, wet feeling surrounding his nipple mid-word. He looked down and saw the top of Altair’s head, his lips wrapped around his nipple. The feeling was so strange, the stimulation going straight to his cock. 

“Wait, wait, what did he do?” Ezio demanded, throwing the barely-touched bottle of lube on the mattress as he crawled back up. He pushed and shoved, nearly dislodging Altair entirely, his lips splitting into a wide grin when he caught sight of what had Desmond so speechless. Reaching out his hand, he rolled his thumb over Desmond’s other nipple, smiling like a cat before a bowl of cream. “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you? That is very cute.”

It was in that moment that Desmond came to the realization that he was going to die. Pleasure overtook him in a crippling wave, the hand and mouth so warm that he felt as if he were on fire. “Oh, god,” he moaned, staring up at the ceiling in awe. He grabbed a handful of Altair’s hair to hold him there, shivering as sharp teeth nipped him teasingly. “What are you guys doing to me?”

Altair pulled off with a reluctant pop, pressing a wet kiss to the abused flesh before raising his head to kiss him properly. His sharp eyes fell to half-mast, his tongue a lazy warmth against Desmond’s. There was no rushing him, it seemed, and slowly Desmond found himself closing his own eyes to better savor the gentleness of it all. 

“You look so beautiful like this,” Ezio whispered from somewhere above. Desmond cracked open an eye reluctantly to see the man staring in awe. It made his face burn. Everything was so warm. Ezio smiled as if he knew what he was thinking and set himself to opening Desmond’s trousers, taking it as slowly as he could so as not to break the daze Altair was inducing with every movement of his skilled lips. 

Desmond barely noticed being bared. He barely registered Ezio tugging away his trousers, and then his boxers. Altair moved closer to him, grinding against his hard cock slowly, never breaking the kiss. There was a shuffle of fabric as the garments were tossed to the floor, and then another as Ezio finished stripping himself fully. “How do you want to go about this?” he asked, probably directing it to Altair since Desmond was in no state to answer much of anything. “If he’s never done this before, we should be gentle with him, no?”

Altair broke the kiss with a muted groan that went straight to Desmond’s cock. He looked over his shoulder at Ezio, his hips never stopping their gentle rutting. “Fuck me first,” he said huskily, licking his spit-slick lips as lewdly as a porn star. “Let him see what he is getting himself into and then he can decide what he wants.”

Ezio was on the bed in an instant, both hands cradling Altair’s ass through his thin undergarments. “Would you really let me?” he asked with a laugh. “Why, I would be honored to take you.” He punctuated it with a hard squeeze, one that made Altair’s breath hitch. 

“Then stop talking about it and get to it,” Altair growled, turning his attention back down to Desmond. Desmond flushed red and looked away, but Altair just took him by the chin and forced him back. “I want you to look at me,” he said levelly, somehow completely unconcerned that Ezio was stripping him of his underclothes as he talked. “I want you to keep your eyes on me. Touch me if you want to. Kiss me if you want to. Know that I want you to do all of that and more.”

“You’re a really intense guy, you know that?” Desmond croaked, moving his shaking hands to rest on Altair’s bare hips. God, his skin was so warm, his muscles hard and firm when he squeezed gently. It made Desmond’s head spin. 

“Don’t let him intimidate you, mi caro,” Ezio laughed, opening up the bottle of lube and coating his hand thoroughly. He settled in behind Altair and brought his slick hand to his ass, doing something that Desmond couldn’t see. “I’ve seen the way you walk, Altair. I can’t wait to have these hips moving like that on my cock.”

Altair was looking decidedly flushed now. He hung his head and let out a rough, breathy laugh, lowering his chest to bring his lips back to Desmond’s chest. “You could move like that too if you worked harder,” he chastised, lapping at Desmond’s nipple teasingly. Desmond choked on a breath and jumped a little, Altair rolling his fingers against the other as he sealed his lips around the nipple like before. 

“Ah, but if I worked and achieved it, then how would I appreciate my own ass as I walked?” Ezio chuckled, doing something to make Altair whine somewhere deep in his chest. “Oh, do you like that? Do you want another? How much can you take, I wonder? With hips like these I’d think you would be well accustomed to this side of the act.” 

Desmond whined when Altair’s teeth nipped him. He soothed the sting with a lick a moment later, though before pulling off with a shudder. “Hurry up and stop talking,” Altair grunted, lifting his ass higher, spreading his thighs wider. Desmond flushed pink at the sight, wondering how he could be so open to saying what he wanted. Didn’t he get embarrassed? His inexperience really was becoming blindingly obvious at this point. 

“Does… Does it feel good?” he asked shyly, meeting Altair’s eye. The man above him softened instantly, his frustration melting away into a cocky smile. “What is he doing to you? I can’t really… see.”

Altair kissed him before he bothered to answer. “He’s opening me up,” the man said with a breathless laugh, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide. A sheen of sweat covered his dark skin, his breath coming faster as Ezio sped up his preparations. “Have you ever fingered yourself? He is doing that to me, and he’s acting like I am made of glass when I am  _ not _ .”

The last few words were gritted out and directed over his shoulder, prompting another laugh from Ezio. “Have you, mi caro?” he asked, looking past Altair and his frustration to pin Desmond in place with his gaze. “I’m very curious to hear.”

When he didn’t answer right away, Altair raised a brow and gave his nipple another harsh suck, prying a choked cry from Desmond’s throat. “Yes! Okay, fine, yes!” he yelped, closing his eyes to the pleasure. Altair’s cock was hard now, firm and long against his own. Every single inch he moved rubbed them together in a heady grind, one that was too much to process with all the other stimulation being given to him. “Sometimes I do, but it’s… it’s… I don’t do it much.”

Altair rewarded him with a gentle kiss, one first to his reddened, peaked nipple and then again to his frowning lips. “Good,” he said, rolling his hips back to meet Ezio’s hand. “Then you know what I’m feeling right now. It’s good, isn’t it? It feels so good to be filled.” 

“It’s going to feel even better in a minute or two,” Ezio chuckled, leaning down to pin Altair on top of Desmond, nipping the man’s ear with a grin. “You are so tight! Will you feel so good around me, too? I can’t wait.”

Desmond’s head spun at the very thought of watching Altair get fucked on top of him. He would have the perfect view for it all, really. He would be able to see every single emotion and feeling as it passed over Altair’s face; he would be able to watch Ezio’s powerful body move, pinning Altair in place as he took him with every ounce of muscle he boasted on his fit, bulky body. Desmond was sweating and panting from the thought alone, whining somewhere low in his throat as his cock twitched. It drew back Ezio and Altair’s attention, dragging them from their bickering to focus on Desmond and Desmond alone. 

The two shared a look, something unspoken passing between them. Ezio cocked his head and Altair closed his eyes with a sigh and nodded. “What?” Desmond asked, his voice a little too breathy for his liking. “What’s going on? What are you two doing?”

Ezio’s smile was warm, his kiss even warmer when he leaned around Altair to kiss Desmond like he meant it. “Nothing, mi caro,” he breathed, smiling when Desmond’s eyes fluttered shut. “Do you like the idea of watching us? We want to give you a good show. Why don’t you tell me what to do? What you want me to do to Altair, and what you want me to do to you after I finish with him?” 

That was too much. It was entirely too much to handle right now. Desmond tossed his head and closed his eyes, gasping when Altair rolled their hips together in a teasingly slow grind. “Oh, God,” he whined, biting down on his lip for a moment, struggling to control himself. “Please, please fuck him. I want to see you fuck him the way you would fuck me.”

“I think I can handle that,” Ezio whispered, his eyes darkened with lust, his lips curled into a hungry smile. “Do you think you can do that, Altair? Want to give our sweet one a good show?”

“Just get inside me already,” Altair hissed, sweating and glaring as much as he could, given the fingers still deep inside him and the hard cock no doubt rubbing against his thigh like the worst tease imaginable. “Don’t you dare cum before I get what I want.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, princess.” Ezio leaned back up after giving Desmond one last kiss, putting himself into position behind Altair with a cocky grin. Desmond could see the exact moment he pulled his fingers from Altair, the man above him giving a bereft little huff and shake. Altair smiled at him tightly, his brow beaded with sweat, his arms trembling a little with the effort of holding himself up. 

“Keep your eyes on me, now,” he breathed, staring into Desmond’s eyes as Ezio slicked up his hard, long cock. “Don’t look away. I want you to see everything I feel. I want you to see how we would treat you.”

Desmond nodded mutely, leaning up for a kiss that Altair gave eagerly. “I will,” he promised, blushing a little as Altair cupped his face between his hands. 

Instead of replying, Altair sucked in a sharp breath and went stiff. His eyes flicked back towards Ezio and Desmond gathered that he was teasing Altair again. “Please,” Desmond pleaded, looking back to Ezio. “Fuck him. Don’t tease.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re an angel, aren’t you?” he mumbled, furrowing his brow as he gripped himself and began to press in. Desmond looked back to Altair, wrapping his fingers around the man’s wrists to hold him back. It really was something beautiful to watch, the pleasure and stretch filling Altair’s handsome face. His lips parted, his eyes narrowed, and his breath came quick before stopping altogether as Ezio buried himself to the hilt inside of him. 

There came a muffled, lost swear from Ezio behind them, but Altair was all Desmond could look at. He gripped Altair’s wrists tightly and leaned up to kiss the man, so hopelessly turned on that he wasn’t sure what to do. “How do you feel?” he asked, loving how Altair seemed to lean into his touch. “Does it feel good?”

Altair didn’t answer. Not right away at least. He seemed too focused on breathing to answer, and when he finally did, he let out a musical litany of curses, ones that Desmond understood despite the fact that he knew they were in Arabic. Sweat glistened along his dark skin, his head lowering while his shoulders trembled. Ezio rocked gently and Altair groaned, the sounds filling the air in a filthy symphony that had Desmond a bright, furious red. 

“That good, huh?” he nearly squeaked, a moan leaving him when Ezio quickened his pace, rocking Altair against his front to carry along the rhythm to Desmond too. Altair’s eyes were nearly black with lust, every groan and moan and half-choked cry punched out of his lungs by Ezio’s pace. It certainly looked like it felt good. Better than good, really. It looked like Altair was drunk on Ezio’s cock, and Desmond swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. 

“Harder,” Desmond said, dragging Altair down for a kiss. “Fuck him harder. Make him really moan.” Altair grunted against his lips, eyes going wide with surprise, but Desmond just chuckled a little, bucking his hips upwards for another rush of pleasure. “I want to see it,” he explained, shivering when Altair moved his lips to Desmond’s throat. “I want to see what it feels like to be fucked like that.”

“I’ll fuck you any way you want me,” Ezio laughed, driving his hips into Altair dutifully, his thick brown hair sticking to his cheeks from the sweat. “Just keep talking like that. You sound so filthy, mi caro. It’s so good.”

Altair swore again in response to it all. Ezio was moving faster now, rocking the entire bed with his punishing thrusts as he gave Altair exactly what Desmond wanted him to give. Desmond almost missed the way Altair’s face crumpled into an expression of pure pleasure, but he forced himself to keep his eyes open despite the heady feeling of their rocking bodies against his own. This was easily the lewdest thing he had ever done, had ever imagined doing, and it really would be a crying shame to miss out on a moment of it when the show was so wonderfully put on in his honor. 

“Come on,” Altair cried a moment later, resting his head on Desmond’s shoulder, feeding his moans to him right in his ear. “Ezio. Come on. Let me cum. Make me cum.”

“That’s not my call to make,” the man laughed, slowing his rocking hips that much more to really drag out the moment. Altair shivered and whined, his cocky attitude reduced to this with just a few well-timed thrusts. “Perhaps you should ask our precious one instead. It is he who is dictating the pleasure tonight, no?”

If Desmond ever thought Altair might have compunctions about begging, he would be proved dead wrong. The man above him shuddered and groaned, lifting his head just enough to meet Desmond’s eye. “D... Desmond,” Altair gasped raggedly, his breath wrecked and his eyes hazy and unfocused. “Tell him to let me cum.”

Cupping Altair’s cheek, Desmond smiled, feeling so powerful. “Do you really need to?” he asked, stroking his thumb along Altair’s sharp cheekbone. “You look so good like this.”

“Let me tell you something, Desmond,” Ezio called out over Altair’s shoulder, his body nearly bent double over the man as he fucked into him. “He  _ feels  _ even better. God above and below, but he is tight.”

“Please,” Altair pleaded, kissing messily at Desmond’s hand. He spoke with a shake in his voice as if every word cost him something, his cock hot and hard against Desmond’s. “Please. Please let me. I need to cum. Tell him. Please.”

Desmond took in a choked breath, overwhelmed at the rush of power he felt hearing someone like Altair beg him. “Ezio,” he murmured, unable to look away from Altair’s broken, beautiful face. “Ezio, let him cum. Make him cum. I want to see it.” 

“You are far kinder than me,” Ezio laughed quietly, wrapping his hand around Altair’s waist to grab his cock in his hand. “I would have made him beg a little more. It’s not something heard often, I’d imagine. Something like that should be savored. I think our little Altair here could do with some punishment every now and again.”

Though he hissed and shook when Ezio took him in hand, Altair still glared dully over his shoulder at Ezio. “Do not test me,” he said silkily, rolling his hips back onto Ezio’s cock, eliciting a groan. “You are playing with forces beyond you, brat.”

“And I think you’re going to cum before me,  _ brat _ ,” Ezio grunted, twisting his wrist in a way that made Altair lock up completely, his mouth going slack. Desmond whined deep in his throat as he watched it all happen. Altair came with a shaky swear, his eyes clenching shut as he coated Ezio’s hand and Desmond’s cock with his release. 

“Oh my god,” Desmond whispered, his head falling back against the sheets just as Altair collapsed on top of his chest. “Oh my god. That was so hot.” He wrapped his arms around Altair’s shoulders, holding him close as the man came down from his afterglow. It looked so good and Desmond could hardly believe he was going to feel all of that next. 

Instead of replying, Altair sealed their lips together in a gentle kiss, one that made Desmond close his eyes and melt. He clutched at the man’s shoulders, swallowing his grunt when Ezio pulled out. Altair fell fully against Desmond, rolling their bodies together in a sweaty, sticky mix of hot skin and warm kisses. Ezio muttered something behind them but Desmond couldn’t hear, drunk on the pleasure of Altair’s post-coital affection and the feeling of the man’s thigh grinding against his aching cock. 

Altair gave a little purr as he broke the kiss, staring down at Desmond with a content grin. “I think it’s your turn,” he said softly, kissing a line down Desmond’s cheek and neck. Desmond’s eyes fell shut at the gentle attention, breathing out a moan as Ezio settled in beside them both, raining down even more kisses. How was Desmond going to survive them both? A flutter of nerves took up occupancy in his stomach, soothed only a little by the attention. 

He opened his eyes when his hand was taken up by Ezio. Ezio brought it to his lips and kissed it gently, his demeanor a sensual and slow as it would be with any of the lovers Desmond had paid witness to him taking while residing in his ancestor’s memories. “Are you ready, mi caro?” the man asked gently, trailing his lips along the line of his wrist. “It would be my honor to take you.”

Desmond flushed a burning red, his face on fire. There was nowhere to hide with the both of them so close, nowhere to gather some measure of composure back. Altair was kissing down his chest, wrapping his lips around his nipple again to make him gasp and arch. “Please,” Desmond breathed, looking into Ezio’s dark eyes. He could see the want in them, the need to cum and make Desmond cum buried beneath his gentle consideration. “Go slow.” 

“Of course,” Ezio promised, giving one last kiss to his hand before pushing Altair off his chest. The other man tumbled onto his side with a frown, running his hand down Desmond’s chest instead as Ezio moved down, settling himself between Desmond’s spread legs. “Someone like you only deserves the best, after all.” 

“You’re so embarrassing,” Desmond complained, looking anywhere but at Ezio as he hitched his legs up and around his hips, putting him on display in a way that was patently uncomfortable. “You weren’t like this with Altair.”

“That’s because he is a very rude man who plays favorites,” Altair sighed, running his hand down Desmond’s chest to tease his inner thigh. 

“You didn’t seem to mind,” Ezio laughed, grabbing for the lube again to coat his fingers. Desmond felt a rush of nerves settle in his stomach at the sight, the calm from their bickering only soothing him marginally. “I’m going to go slow, okay? You’ve done this part before. It won’t be any different from what you have done yourself.”

“Just keep breathing,” Altair advised, kissing his cheek sweetly. “We’re right here with you.”

That was easier said than done. Desmond nodded despite his trepidations and closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax as Ezio brought his fingers to his entrance. The cool lube warmed quickly against his hot skin, and Ezio was gentle as he rolled his fingertips against him, teasing and careful as he coated the outside. “Be ready, mi caro,” Ezio murmured, slipping a finger inside in one slick, steady intrusion. 

Desmond stopped breathing, his lips parting in a throaty groan. Altair grumbled something about moving too fast, but Desmond could barely make out the words. The feeling was similar to how it was when he did it himself, that much was true, but Ezio and Altair had definitely left out how much better it would feel when done by someone else. Ezio’s hands were a bit bigger than Desmond’s, his fingers definitely rougher, definitely thicker. Desmond spread his legs even wider and clutched the sheets at his sides, his cock aching that much more. 

“Please,” he moaned, cutting off the other men’s argument before it could really distract them. “Give me more.”

“See?” Ezio sniped, carefully giving him another finger. “He likes it just fine.”

That was a bit of an understatement, Desmond thought, but he really was in no position to correct the man when he could hardly breathe, let alone talk. Altair was kissing him again, kissing his chest and ribs, moving lower and lower, bickering in between every gentle press with Ezio about something that didn’t really matter. Desmond relaxed into the slow rhythm and closed his eyes, concentrating on all he was feeling. Ezio really was deserving of his lovers if this was how he made them all feel. It was great. Better than great, really. 

He was about to think that it couldn’t get any better, but then Altair decided to prove him wrong entirely by swallowing his cock without so much as a warning. Desmond ripped open his eyes and jolted, sweat beading his forehead as he took in the sudden sight of Altair’s lips wrapped around his cock. “What the hell?” he wheezed, Ezio using the distraction to slip in another finger, filling him to the brim. God, oh god, this was too much. How was he supposed to last if they did this to him? Did they want him to cum all over himself like a horny teenager? If Ezio’s grin was anything to go off of, he wanted exactly that. 

“Just look at you,” Ezio breathed reverently, spreading his fingers to watch Desmond arch and twitch. “Altair, you look like you’re showing him heaven itself. Do you feel good? It’s fine if you cum, we won’t mind.”

Altair pulled off for a moment, glaring up at Ezio while he stroked with his hand. “Speak for yourself,” he said with a roughened voice. He looked down at Desmond with a smile, his cheeks flushed and lips a tempting red. “Warn me first. I’m not like him. I don’t like the taste nearly as much.”

Desmond let out a broken moan. “You can’t just say things like that,” he said, his thighs trembling as Altair laughed against the head of his cock, his lips already wrapping back around the tip to take him back down. Desmond reached out a hand to thread through Altair’s hair, losing control for just a minute as he rolled his hips upwards. 

“Hey, hey, let’s not choke him,” Ezio laughed, pinning him back down flat before Altair could pull off again to complain. “If you’re that eager, how about we move on, then? I think I would like to feel you properly, mi caro. Would you like that?”

When it already felt this good, there was no argument that could be given to convince Desmond to hesitate any longer. He nodded his head and spread his thighs even wider, putting his hand back above his head to grip the sheets. Ezio’s cock was flushed and slick, gorgeous and thick and beautiful as he pumped himself a few times before lining up. Desmond closed his eyes when the head brushed his entrance, so hot he thought he might burn up entirely. 

“Please,” he begged, cracking open an eye to implore Ezio. “Just do it.”

“Anything for you, mi bello,” Ezio crooned before thrusting forward.

There was no way to hold back the complete shock he felt at being filled. Desmond tore at the sheets and sucked in a lungful of air that didn’t do nearly enough to calm the fire burning inside him. God, oh God, but it felt good. It felt so much better than he had imagined, especially with Altair sucking him down so expertly. Ezio was saying something, asking him something, but Desmond couldn’t do much more than moan, rolling his hips upwards into Altair’s mouth, and rocking pitifully against the cock inside him, longing for it to move, to do something more than just split him in half. 

“Please,” he begged, forcing himself to open his eyes, to look at Ezio hovering over him. “Please, please move. I need it.” It felt too good to just sit like this. Ezio’s eyes were dark too, like he was just barely holding back. His hands were so firm on Desmond’s hips, bruising in their need to keep him in place. “Ezio. Ezio, please.” 

“I’ve got you, mi caro,” Ezio said softly, rolling his hips forward in a devastating thrust. He leaned over Desmond and kissed him tenderly, rocking into him with a gentleness that was completely different from how he had treated Altair before. Desmond stared into Ezio’s soft eyes, reading an unbearable amount of emotion within their honey depths. It made his cheeks burn, his breath stutter, but he knew that this was going to be kind. That they both were determined to show him the extent of their affection for him, no matter how long it took him to accept it. 

And God, did it feel good. Altair’s mouth was so hot, so mind-numbingly warm around his cock. Desmond chanced a quick glance down only to close his eyes with a groan, the sight alone nearly enough to send him over. Altair was staring back up at him with glee in his eyes, bobbing his head with a practiced ease that made Desmond’s head spin. His hand stroked what he didn’t have in his mouth, moving at a languid pace that provided a jarring counterpoint to Ezio’s smooth, measured thrusts. 

Ezio noticed where his attention was and chuckled breathlessly, leaning down to catch his lips in a kiss. “He’s awfully good at that, isn’t he?” he whispered, peppering Desmond’s cheeks with kisses, so tender it nearly hurt. “You deserve to be doted on. You’re worth every kindness we can give.”

“You’re overwhelming,” Desmond gasped, closing his eyes to hide. Ezio was carding through his hair now, rocking his hips in a targeted effort to bring Desmond as much pleasure as possible. 

Desmond gasped a moment later, tearing open his eyes as a sharp sting landed against his thigh. He jolted and looked up, seeing Ezio wearing a lewd grin, his hand still raised as if to spank him again. “Try to pay attention, dear one,” the man chuckled, giving him another teasing slap. “Eyes on me. Eyes on the ones savoring you.”

He yelped when the next slap hit, his cock giving another twitch that Altair noticed instantly. His golden eyes flicked up to pin Desmond in place with a knowing look, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a grin. Desmond whined and writhed a bit beneath their bodies, feeling so helpless but unable to hate the feeling. His breath came quicker and Ezio rewarded him with a harder thrust, coaxing his moans louder and far, far more wanton. 

“Do you like that?” Ezio asked, his voice pitched low, his chest rumbling against Desmond’s in a way that made him feel so very small. “Do you like it when I spank you?”

“Y-Yes,” Desmond gasped, jolting again when another strike fell against his thigh. “Yes, daddy, please.”

The moment the words hit the air, Desmond was choking, his face on fire and the mortification stifling him like a shroud. Ezio’s pace faltered for a moment but picked back up within a second or two, his laugh filling the air. Altair pulled off his cock to laugh himself, working Desmond with just his hand. 

“Daddy?” Ezio repeated, looking gleeful, utterly entranced. “That is very cute, mi caro. Why don’t you say it again?”

“Yes,” Altair laughed, his voice utterly wrecked. “Why don’t you beg daddy for more?”

Desmond covered his face with his hands and groaned pitifully, but his wrists were tugged away within an instant by the two men staring at him lasciviously. “Please,” he begged, “just forget I said anything.” This was so embarrassing. 

“Not likely,” Ezio smiled good-naturedly, delivering another hard thrust that made Desmond quake. “Please? You sound good when you say it.”

“You really do,” Altair agreed before he went back down on him. His eyes didn’t leave Desmond’s though, imploring him silently. Did they really like it that much? Desmond swallowed hard and stared at the ceiling, face burning and body arching, the pleasure still so heady. 

“Daddy,” Desmond whispered, his eyes falling shut as another wave of pleasure rolled over him. “Daddy, please. More. I feel so good.”

“What a good boy you are,” Ezio crooned, dipping down to kiss him gently, smoothing his hand down Desmond’s thigh. “Let us take care of you. Would you like that? Would you like daddy to make you feel even better?”

There was no way to reply. Not when he could barely think, let alone speak. Desmond nodded frantically, sweat dripping from his brow. “Please,” he gasped, clutching at the pillow, the sheets, at his own hair. 

“You heard him, Altair,” the man murmured, taking Desmond by the hips to fuck into him with all the intent of someone determined to embrace him into the next life. 

Safe. Desmond let out a ragged moan, reaching for Ezio’s hand, for Altair’s shoulder. He felt so safe with them here. It didn’t matter if they weren’t real. It didn’t matter if this were all just a fantasy, a delusion. He had them here with him, and he had them adoring him, worshiping him, tending to him body and soul. There was no space left to feel anxious. There was no time to waste on feeling anything but the pleasure they so willingly gave him. 

Ezio was moving faster now, and Altair was taking him deeper, swallowing around him with a skill that could only be commended. Desmond cried out and arched into them, his head filled with the scent of their bodies, with the heat of their touch. It was all too addicting, he thought just as Altair hummed and sent Desmond keening. How was anyone supposed to survive this? 

“You are so beautiful, Desmond,” Ezio crooned, taking him by the chin to look into his eyes. “So beautiful and so loved. Can you feel it? Can you feel how much we care for you?”

Desmond managed a nod, but that was all he managed to do before he saw white flash across his vision. The combined assault of their touch and their words was too much to bear. Desmond cursed as he fisted the mattress, thighs bucking upwards as he toppled over the edge. There was no time to warn Ezio, no time to tell Altair to pull off. There was only release, and it wouldn’t wait for anything. 

And God did Desmond adore it. He couldn’t feel guilty, not right now. Cumming felt good. Better than good. So good that for a moment, Desmond swore his blacked out, his vision flashing a brilliant, blinding white as the rush of pleasure overtook him entirely. His thighs held tight to Ezio’s hips, going limp a moment later as he lost the strength to hold on. His body sang, his lungs ached, and Altair finally pulled off his cock, cursing and muttering about something Desmond really couldn’t bring himself to care about. 

When the world felt like this, Desmond could be set on fire and he probably wouldn’t bother moving. His afterglow was too good to break, and he intended to savor it for as long as he could. 

“God, Desmond, you’re beautiful,” Ezio groaned, pulling out to work himself off with his hand. He spilled quickly, kept waiting for far too long, his control weakened considerably by the prolonged wait of fucking the both of them. He came with a grunt and coated Desmond’s thighs, letting out a weak laugh at the sight before crumpling down onto the bed beside him. He threw a heavy arm over Desmond’s chest, tucking his face in against his neck. “Did you enjoy that? You look like I’ve just shown you heaven.” 

Heaven might be an understatement, but one look at Altair told Desmond not to say as much else Ezio’s ego might burst the bed out from under them, the weight too much to bear. He tossed his arm over his face to hide his eyes, struggling to catch his breath. Altair settled in on his other side, still grimacing from the taste in his mouth.

“I thought I told you to warn me first,” he grumbled, rolling onto his side to thread his fingers through Desmond’s hair with a teasing tug. “You are very lucky I’m fond of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Desmond panted, his cheeks burning with the thought of cumming in the man’s mouth. “It just happened so fast. I didn’t think.” He couldn’t think. Even now his thoughts came sluggishly, exhaustion weighing heavily in his limbs. Was that normal? How did Ezio just walk it off so easily? He felt like he could sleep for a month and still wake tired. 

Altair grunted and pressed a lazy kiss to his shoulder. “It’s fine,” he muttered. “So long as you enjoyed yourself.” 

“You’re so sweet to him, Altair,” Ezio complained, rolling closer to kiss Desmond too. Sandwiched as he was between both men, Desmond was sure there was no possible chance of him falling off the bed like this. “He’s nothing but rude to me. Would you treat me to the pleasures of your mouth as well, or do you only spoil our dear one here with treatment like that?”

“Speaking as if you could get it back up again so soon,” Altair scoffed, but Desmond could feel the man’s smile against the sensitive skin of his neck. “Listen to him; he thinks himself younger than he is. How arrogant.” 

“And that is awfully rich coming from you,” Ezio chuckled, running his hand down Desmond’s shoulder to tangle their fingers together atop his stomach. “Arrogance is not the same thing as skill, a lesson I believe you know all too well. Do not mistake me for you, old man.”

Desmond could feel Altair beginning to bristle. He cut them both off before it could devolve into a fight. How they could have the energy to bicker let alone fight was beyond Desmond. All he felt in the mood for was a nap. 

“Settle down, you two,” he sighed, turning his head to kiss Ezio’s cheek and then Altair’s. “You’re both pretty.” 

Ezio’s laugh was warm in his ear, and Altair’s sigh was more fond than put upon. Desmond counted it as a win and closed his eyes, smiling. He knew he would be sore come morning, unbelievably sore, but for now he just felt good.

“You look happy, mi caro,” Ezio murmured in his ear, reaching for the blankets to tug them over them all. 

“Far less stressed,” Altair echoed, settling himself so that Desmond’s head rested on his shoulder. 

“I feel better,” he admitted, curling into the warmth. “Thank you. Both of you.” For being here, for caring. For refusing to let him go through this alone, no matter how alone he felt. 

There was a moment of silence, and then Desmond felt the arms around him tighten. “You needn’t thank us,” Altair whispered.

“We would do anything to protect you,” Ezio swore. “So, sleep now, mi caro. May you find peace in your dreams and when you wake.” 

The words were too sweet to ignore. Desmond nodded sleepily and smiled when he felt the kisses fall upon his brow. They wished him sweet dreams when his waking ones were already kind. He listened despite it, giving in to the exhaustion hanging heavy within his limbs. 

Things were unsteady. Things were uncertain. Desmond’s life had changed immeasurably and there seemed no end in sight as to when it might stop. But, laying here on this small bed, in this borrowed room in this temporary hideout, with the warm, strong arms of the two men wrapped around him, Desmond could breathe easy. 

He could at least begin to imagine that things might not be as bad as they felt, if only for the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> woot its been awhile since ive dipped my feet in assassins creed stuff, but it was a fun trip down memory lane. if you liked this, leave a comment! and if youre interested in my work and all of that, check me out on tumblr (terminallydepraved). until next time~


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